


Last stand of 300

by alienspacemanfrommarsandsaturn



Series: The Wars of the Teutonic Knights [1]
Category: 300 (2006), Minecraft (Video Game), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienspacemanfrommarsandsaturn/pseuds/alienspacemanfrommarsandsaturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of a German knight and king in his final battle. Based on Minecraft, 300 and J.R.R Tolkiens lord of the rings</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last stand of 300

Another rain of arrows fell on the brave men anxiously awaiting the enemy's attack. King Nathanial Schmied II, knight Teutonic, stood sentinel among his men, his suit of strong mithril, jewel encrusted; gold damascened armor plate shining brilliantly. He wore a hauberk of extra strong steel mail underneath his breastplate and leggings made of strong and flexible steel mesh, the secret to make the mesh known only to the people of Stahlstadt, his home and kingdom. He clutched an a Dwarvish long handled double headed axe with a pike head on the end of the shaft and a large square shield made of wood and steel covered with thick leather and gold coated steel rivets and lining. On his back was a Dwarvish war hammer and a crossbow. His expertly crafted mithril diamond edged long sword hung from his emerald, ruby, sapphire and diamond encrusted platinum belt. The weight of the arms and armor would have made any other man double up, but Nathanial was a mountain of a man, with legs like tree trunks, arms like cannon barrels and a body the size of a barrel, he carried them if they were mere feathers. Stand to your front men! They will not pass!" roared Nathanial. The cannons of Thermopylae fortress boomed in reply to the arrow barrage. Thankfully King Duffell the great of Thermopylae, builder of the fort, had added so many cannons and the tall walls thought Nathanial. Nathanial looked among his men. Amongst Nathanial’s highly trained knights Teutonic were the villager soldiers. Armed with iron swords of surprisingly good quality and armoured with composite chain mail and leather armor, they barely looked capable of holding their own against a wild pig, let alone well-armed footmen. "They're coming sir!" cried one of the lookouts. Yet another rain of arrows landed, most landing on the sandstone structures behind them. The enemy was indeed close. A sole plate armor clad rider approached the knights. “Germans!” he cried. “Lay down your arms!” One of Nathanial’s troops threw a spear at the man, striking him in the throat. “Come and get them Schwein-Dreck!!!” bellowed Nathanial as the man fell of his horse with a metallic clong. The knights heard the loud war trumpets of the enemy footmen. The steel gate barring the way into the fort were destroyed as the mass of footmen burst through and charged. "Hold!!!" cried Nathanial to his men, now in a phalanx with the Teutonic knights at the front and the villager soldiers at the back. Nathanial’s breathing quickened and his pulse began to race. This was not his first battle, but the adrenaline still coursed through him before a fight. His many years training for war as a boy and a young man had seen him through many a battle, but he felt a little uneasy before this one. As the hordes slammed into the knight’s shields, the men began being forced back, their efforts not enough. "Come on, is that the best you can do!" roared Nathanial, pushing so much that the words burst out like a bomb. The 300 and the villager soldiers began pushing their enemy out, stopping occasionally when the knights up the front killed the nearest enemies with their spears. When their enemy stood out on the steps in front of the fortress, Nathanial cried "Now!!!” A rain of arrows from archers waiting behind them fell on the footmen and the phalanx broke, the soldiers attacking there enemy with demon-like ferocity. Cannons whom-pahed, swords clanged, primeval roars burst out from the clashing gladiators, bows twanged, spears flew through the air with shrill whistles and axes smashed through bone and flesh. The villager soldiers were acquitting themselves well, but there poor armor meant that many were now dead, whereas Nathanial's knights had strong armor, that was also light and comfortable, that made sure none were dead. Nathanial’s swords enchantments began to kick in. Sometimes the enemy found their swords breaking into millions of pieces, at others they found their swords heating up and burning them while another effect was the enemy getting thrown back many meters. Blood began pooling at Nathanial's feet and, undaunted, he charged through the mass of men and footmen, killing enemies as he went. With superior numbers, the men began chasing off their enemy. "Come on men, get stuck into the barbarians!" roared Nathanial, panting like a dog from his mad charge.

 

The men took a well-earned break. Spears were recovered, weapons and armor polished and repaired and ammunition was stocked up on. Nathanial helped his men tend to battle wounds and repair weapons and armor. The gate had to be replaced by a wooden one. Suddenly the cannons roared and spewed fire and smoke as more footmen advanced. A deadly rain of arrows, longer and greater in number than before, killed and wounded countless brave soldiers, their armor lying away from them, being repaired. With many troops dead, wounded or tending to the wounded, Nathanial was left with a bold and indomitable 300 knights. They marched out of the fortress to face there enemy. With his troops in a phalanx on the ragged patch of earth in front of the fortress, Nathanial roared in a deep, warlike voice "This is where we hold them; this is where we fight; this is where they die!!!" , a look of sheer madness on his face. An enormous roar showed that the 300 were ready. “Man your shields boys!!!” yelled Nathanial’s young son Wolf. "Remember this day men, it will be yours for all time" roared Nathanial in a lower voice. They charged, arrows slamming into their armor and shields. As they collided into the footmen, some footmen died due to the sheer force the 300 hit with. The brutal combat between the 300 and the vastly outnumbering footmen resulted in massive casualties on both sides. Blood soaked into the ground like rain. Sickening cracks as bones broke under axes, clongs as blunt hammers and shields smashed against armor and haunting shings as swords slashed flesh filled the air. Soon it was down to Nathanial and his son, Wolf, fighting 500,000 to two. "Go" whispered Nathanial, throwing Wolf his sword and Wolf catching it with ease. "But father..." he started. “No, just go” replied Nathanial as he hit a footman with an upward stroke of his war hammer, the snapping of the man’s neck hauntingly audible amongst the din of the raging battle. Bold king Nathanial continued fighting against overwhelming odds, his war hammer and shield now totally red, his armor damaged and coated with a thick layer of blood. The footmen continued fighting, there losses mounting. The earth was soaked and spongy with blood; bodies piled up and formed macabre palisades. Nathanial switched to his axe like lightening, trying to by some more time for his beloved son. He slashed with the axe, the footmen despairing that Nathanial was an invincible god. The enemy retreated, dropping their weapons. Suddenly the footmen waiting at distance to crush the 300 fired their bows in unison. The deadly rain fell on Nathanial. With a cry like a dying elephant, Nathanial fell and coming to rest on a number of enemy's he had slayed. King Nathanial II, who gave everything for his home, died a death fitting only for such a warrior. “Glory at last” he whispered with his last breath.

 

"Remember us" said Wolf. He stood amongst his men, clad in armor that resembled his fathers, though made of strong steel rather than the expensive mithril. "As simple an order as a king can give." "Remember why we died" "He did not wish tribute with song, or monuments, nor poems of war and valour." "His wish was simple; Remember us, he said to me." There was a long pause as Wolf tried to block images of his father lying dead in a macabre, bloody marsh. “That was his hope." He managed to force out, despite his dry throat. "Should any free soul ever come across the place, in the all countless centuries yet to be, may all our voices whisper to you from the ageless stones." "Go tell the Germans passer-by, that here, by Teutonic law, we lie." "And so my king died, and my brothers died" "Long i pondered my fathers, cryptic talk of victory and time has proven him wise, for from free man to free man, the word was spread that bold Nathanial and his 300, so far from home, laid down their lives, not just for Stahlstadt but for all of Germania and the promise this world holds" "Now, here on this ragged patch of earth called Plataea, Herobrines hoards face obliteration.” “Just there the barbarians huddle, sheer terror gripping tight, icy fingers of fear clutching their black hearts, knowing full well what merciless horrors they suffered at the swords and spears of 300, let them stare now, across the plains, at 25,000 knights Teutonic, commanding 75,000 free men !" The soldiers roared like a wounded bear, the thunderous war cry tightening the icy grip on the footmen’s hearts and filling the free men’s hearts and blood with the fire of war. "The enemy outnumber us paltry 5 to 1, good odds for any freedom loving man!" Wolf put on his helmet and raised his father’s sword. "On this day we rescue a world from mysticism and tyranny and usher in a future brighter than anything we can imagine!" "Give thanks men, to Nathanial and the brave 300, to victory!!!" The Wolf lowered his sword and proceeded by a hail of arrows from the Platean archers, the mass of men charged into their enemy, another thunderous roar helping shake the earth as the two mortal enemies charged.


End file.
